Haunts of the Past
By R.J. Stayton
I’m trying to hold on, but they’re calling out to me.
Aged regrets
They haunt me, and I can’t seem to shake them off.
Memories of the past
They try to seize my soul, but I’m fighting back.
Regrets flow like the sands of time, just like the lines on my face.
The stream whispers, telling me that the past is gone.
